


When you come back

by ARMEN15



Category: Bron | Broen | The Bridge
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-08-29 20:26:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16750975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARMEN15/pseuds/ARMEN15
Summary: Saga's journey of discovery has a unexpected turn of the events and more problems will arise she and Henrik would have to face.As usual, no copyright infringement, all rights belong to authors and producers.





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 

Cities as an endless sequence of motorways, exits, road tunnels, hotels, museums and signals in various languages.  
Saga wanted to return, nearly a month has passed, a month of freedom and exploration and collect of experiences she had welcomed, fighting with a subtle sense of fear of the unknown.  
She had to overcome the journey, for herself, for her future and for who was waiting for her at home. They both knew a brief time apart was indispensable to calm their souls from the frantic events that took place in just two weeks, to adjust to the new developments they were facing.  
Saga longed to be back, her brain had collected many new data and she needed a pause from travelling to process them. A hard drive full and ready for a reset in the tranquillity of her two home countries, linked by the bridge that had been a symbol of her relationship with her man.  
She had the desire to cross that very bridge again soon, to be back to the familiar face that had followed her in her travel, a silent companion, a promise of a safe haven.  
Having someone waiting for her was so new.  
The temptation to drive all night was strong, so was her tiredness. Too dangerous to follow her instinct: it was raining, the weather forecast wasn’t good, she couldn’t ring the bell – no, use the keys she had, kept safe in her right pocket, like a talisman – in the middle of the night and sleep on the couch not to wake up him or his daughter.  
The last exit for Hannover, just a cheap chain hotel for the night in the suburbs, not caring the view, not visiting the town, and tomorrow morning the final drive.  
She signalled her intention to turn right and changed lane with a quick glance at the rear view mirror; the engine decelerated, she kept both hands on the wheel - the old car a little stubborn in the rain, mental note to change the tyres after the long travel – to control the trajectory, then a big hit and the world started spinning until all went black.

 

Henrik Sabroe woke up hearing a sound and opened his eyes. The alarm clock, still dark outside, incompatible with the morning light.  
He listened better, not the alarm tone, an incoming call.  
He took the phone off the charger and passed a hand over his eyes to see better.  
5.43, Linn’s working phone, sure no good news. Astrid was in the adjacent room, so he answered fearing a name only.  
“Henrik, it's Linn. Saga is in hospital. A car accident. I got a call from German police. A truck…”  
“How is she? “  
He interrupted her immediately.  
“Serious, but not life threatening.”  
Henrik allowed himself to breathe.  
“Where?”  
“Near Hannover.”  
Linn explained what the kind German colleague – whose English wasn’t good as Linn’s - told her a few minutes before. The previous evening on the motorway a truck – a sleepy or drunken driver, Linn didn’t understand – lost control and went against a dozen of cars. Saga’s Porsche was pointing to an exit nearby – her right directions lights still on after the impact – and the car was thrown against the guard rail, made a turn and stopped on the patch of grass of the junction.  
Her luck, being hit from the back and driving a solid old car who absorbed most of the impact.  
The motorway was closed for hours, people trapped in the cars, firemen working to avoid explosions, four people already dead and more than a dozen injured.  
When Saga was extracted from her car the policemen controlled her documents and reported to the local command that after a fast research in databases called the police headquarter in Malmo.

 

Henrik booked online the flight while sipping the first coffee of the day shortly after six; he planned to get back home for the evening and return to Hannover the following days. He was at the airport before nine, having left Astrid with his sister in law.  
Astrid wasn’t happy about his choice. He sensed she wasn’t happy to see him go away, he was torn but he had to go to Hannover. It was the first forced separation after her return: he had briefly thought to take Astrid with him, then the idea to oblige her to spend a few hours in a hospital become unbearable. Memories of her own wound, surgery and recovery.  
Sometimes Swedish words slipped from the mouth when she was worried or excited; she started seeing twice a week a child’s psychologist.  
The book of costumes was where once he kept the necklaces box and Henrik was sure she had opened it more than once. How much he wanted her to forget the village life, he was aware it had been a part of her for too long.  
Astrid was still fragile. Henrik sighed painfully, he had to go alone.  
“Aunt Julia don’t like you.” Astrid stated while they were driving to Alice sister’s house  
“I know.”  
“I could stay with the grannies.”  
“I haven’t time to drive you there and catch the flight. And the grannies cannot drive you to the phisiotherapy this afternoon. Aunt Julia loves you, is closer and she keeps Maria home today for you.”  
Alice’s relatives had always blamed Henrik for the disappearance of his family and their relationship was strained since. Alice had confided her sister there were marriage troubles and Julia had suggested her to discuss with Henrik. How he wished she had followed the suggestion, but having talked with Frank in Linn’s presence, he understood the ability of the man to mould her mind.  
Julia was happy Astrid has been found but she had supported her parents’ wish to have Alice buried in the family grave when the skeleton was discovered. It was clear for Henrik he’d never be buried with her.  
Astrid was silent for a while, looking out of the window.  
“Dad, you love Saga, don’t you? It’s more than friendship.”  
Out of blue, like children often - and Saga – ask.  
Henrik casted a glance to his baby, all grown up of eight years in a minute, and saw the young woman in her.  
He felt relieved for her intuition.  
No more lies or petty excuses, Astrid saw the way he and Saga looked at each other after the shoot, how he knelt in front of Saga – unable to stood, to speak, shaking – and holding her hands kissed them. A gesture powerful and intimate, the hands that killed a life and gave Henrik life at the same time.  
He hide in his bedroom every evening when a call from Saga arrived and Astrid noticed how his face glowed when he was back.  
“Yes. Love isn’t always logical or easy. Love can be blind, but Saga is my light.”  
His tone made Astrid shiver, she read the truth in his words and hoped this time it could be different for him. Henrik had been honest in describing her the marriage problems with her mother and the deep guilt he experienced since.  
“Why she doesn’t live with us?”  
“She had to solve a lot of things and she needed to go away for a while.”  
“Tell Saga I want to meet her soon.”  
Henrik swallowed his tears, kissed Astrid’s head in front of Julia's house and saw Maria opening the door and run to hug Astrid, like a nomal ten year old girl, happy to have someone to play with.  
Waiting for the boarding, he talked again with Linn, informed Lillian and had a long conversation with his mother.  
The flight was short, Henrik arrived at the airport, studied the hospital location and took a taxi.


	2. Chapter 2

CH 2 

After three nurses and a doctor questioned him about his identity, Henrik was admitted in the intensive care. He was registered as Saga's next of kin in Sweden, like she was his in Denmark, but in Germany he had to call the colleague Linn was in contact with to be recognized as her official partner.  
The nurse made him wear a disposable dress, gloves and shoe covers.  
Trying to forget all the times he was in a hospital in less than two months, he concentrated on Saga. She was surrounded by monitors whose beeps and floating lines were telling him she was alive.  
A tall blond man introduced himself as Saga's doctor, Johann Krauss written on his badge; he prompted Henrik to approach the bed.  
Henrik had studied German and was quite fluent in talking, but he told Krauss he had difficulties to read medical reports.  
“I'll ask them to be translated. You can touch her, don’t be afraid, just be careful with the iv and the electrodes. The arm is broken, it isn’t a decomposed fracture, the limb will recover soon. The brain swelling is the worrying thing.”  
Saga was dressed in a pale pink hospital gown, making her appear like a child. A large dressing covered partially her forehead and temple on her right side, where her hair had been cut.  
The right arm was in a cast and her other arm showed bruises, like her neck and face.  
Henrik put his hand over Saga’s right one, it was warm and he moved his fingers to caress her.  
He stared at the monitors, silly idea his mere touch could awake her; she wasn’t Snow white and he no charming prince.  
He tried to remember which part of the brain controlled the various functions, irony the very woman who’d give him an instant answer was the one in need of it.  
Krauss was still speaking.  
“We’ll evaluate further damages only after a few days, her vital stats are good, so we keep her sleeping for now. You can stay with her whatever you want. Talk with her, it can be useful.”  
“I have to fly home this afternoon, I plan to return once I settle things.”  
The doctor walked out, Henrik sat, still holding her hand. He gulped and let his tears flow; he was tired, tired to be brave and strong. The last two years of his life has been a long awakening from the illusion of his lost family and a slow building of a connection with the woman lying in that bed. He wanted just to hug her forever, but it was impossible. He could only pray she’d awake soon to bring her home. He’d never let Saga slip from his life again.  
The doctor returned in the afternoon and gave Henrik his phone number for updates. His idea was to reduce the sedatives from Friday on, if all was well Saga would wake up during the following week.  
Linn sent Henrik the photos of the Porsche, barely recognizable, while he was in the airport waiting for his plane; the sight of the twisted metal was a shock. How easily the outcome could be fatal for Saga. Henrik thanked God in a silent prayer and called his parents to organize things for the incoming days.

 

After a difficult night, bad dreams and endless turns in bed, Henrik left his parents' house in Kisserup shortly before 7 on Thuesday morning, an early start to arrive in Hannover around noon. The motorway wasn’t crowded and the weather was good, so Henrik was able to enjoy the drive across Denmark and Germany.  
His mother prepared him breakfast, gave him sandwiches, a bottle of water, a thermos of strong coffee and kissed him, recommending to drive carefully. Better arrive an hour later safe than not arriving at all. His mother had been deeply moved seeing the photo of the Porsche. Her son didn’t deserve to loose another loved one, she was happy he had Saga in his life and was eager to meet her.  
“I’d prefer not to leave Astrid again.”  
“You aren't leaving her, she's with her grandparents. It's normal. We want to spoil her, too.”  
“But it feels a betrayal…”  
“Henrik, you’re a father and also a man, you have a second chance to learn to live with your child and your partner. First time all went wrong. Me and Astrid talked about how important Saga is for you. She knows you have to go. And Astrid needs a woman in her life.”  
“Thanks Mom, I do hope to settle down things, after all happened.”  
“You will. Now go, we'll take care of Astrid, Saga is your immediate priority now. Bring her home soon.”  
Krauss had informed Henrik Saga was awake since Tuesday morning, she was better and he intended to release her in a few days, so Henrik booked a hotel and travelled by car to drive Saga back.  
The long drive gave him time to reassess his thoughts. It wouldn’t be easy, it would be earlier than he planned, she needed his help and a place to stay.  
He had discussed with his counsellor the home arrangements and Astrid and Saga interaction.  
Honesty was the best way to deal with their traumas, circling around problems won’t give a easier or faster solution, the doctor said.  
Astrid knew they were a couple, albeit unconventional. Saga knew how much Astrid meant for Henrik. From these premises they could work a better mutual understanding.  
He met Krauss in his office, the doctor had a thick folder on his desk with Saga’s name on it.  
“The prognosis is good, she is awake, she talks, eat and her vital stats are quite normal. The swelling is slowly reducing. There is a problem, thought, she apparently had no memories. It can happen in similar brain damages.”  
“No memories at all?”  
“So it seems, we asked her about her work, family, friends.”  
“Will her memory be back?”  
“We think so, but we don’t know when and how much.”  
The doctor started a technical explanation of the head trauma Saga had due the accident and told Henrik about the meeting with dr. Neumann, a staff psychologist, planned for the afternoon.  
“I don’t want to keep Saga here to make a evaluation without a clinical reason, she can be assessed in Sweden, but I want my colleague to discuss with you, mainly to suggest you how to talk with her during these days. There is also a personal matter, I assume you care a lot for Saga. Are you involved with each other?”  
“We are deeply involved.”  
“Are you in a relationship?”  
“Yes. Will she remember me?”  
“Prepare yourself for the worst. You go and meet her, later we'll evaluate with Neumann.”  
“I‘ve come here to take her home, as soon as I can, I have Astrid to think about, too.”  
“Saga should remember her daughter, labour pains are hard to forget.”  
“She's not the mother....it's a complicated situation, my daughter was abducted. Saga found her and saved us. I'll do everything for Saga.”

 

Saga was in a single room, propped up on two pillows with the lunch tray on the trolley tray, eating slowly with her left arm.  
Henrik first impulse was go and hug her, he missed her after a month, not counting the hours spent at her bedside a week before. He breathed to still his heart.  
She looked up when he knocked on the door frame, a little welcoming smile that could be used with everybody.  
“Hallo.”  
“Hallo.” she repeated. “Who are you?”  
He felt her eyes roaming over his face and body, wrinkles appeared on her forehead in the effort to concentrate.  
“I’m Henrik.” He had debated in which language to approach her, he went with his own.  
“You are Danish.”  
“I’m your colleague.”  
“Nice you came to see me.”  
“I drove here to take you back. You cannot fly for now, the doctor says it is dangerous for your head.”  
“Good. So Linn sent you? She’s my boss. I’m a Swedish detective, she wrote me yesterday.”  
“I’ve come because I wanted to. I know Linn, I’d come anyway to see you. I’ll stay here until we’re ready to go home.”  
The conversation was awkward, Saga trying to indentify Henrik who hoped to hide enough his disappointment. It was hard, the way they parted – the sweetness of that single kiss - made his need grow stronger during the weeks she was travelling in Europe.  
Henrik took the chair and moved it closer to the bed.  
“I’ve already been here, last week, while you were sedated.”  
She stared at him like she was seeing him with different eyes. A tiny hope blossomed in Henrik.  
“Ah. So we’re … friends? You care for me?”  
“Yes, you're my best friend.”  
“For how long we knew each other?”  
“Two years, we worked on a case.”  
“Good. I haven’t received visits or calls from relatives. Do I have a family?.”  
“No, you haven’t.”  
Saga moved her upper body forward and asked Henrik to come closer. She breathed his scent and closed her eyes.  
“You smell good.”  
Henrik allowed himself a little laugh. It was a start.  
“You used to tell me so, you like to try my things in the bathroom.”  
“Do we share a bathroom?”  
“It happens.”  
“Yours or mine?”  
“Mostly mine. You had an apartment, then you left it.”  
“And where I live now? Was I travelling? For how long? We are in Germany now. Google map says Hannover.”  
“You took some time off after an important case we solved. You had a car accident last week, Tuesday evening. Police said you were going north and probably planned to stop for the night in Hannover.”  
They were interrupted by a nurse who told Saga she had an examination scheduled.  
Henrik had to leave, promising he’d settle in his hotel and return later in the same day.  
“You got a visitor.” The nurse commented while pushing Saga away on the wheelchair.  
“He’s my best friend.” Saga felt a little complacency in telling the woman she was not alone.  
“You’re lucky to have a friend.”  
“He’s Danish. He came a long way.”  
“Sure he did! And he’s such a good looking I bet half the nurses here would like to have him as patient.”


	3. Chapter 3

CH 3

Dr. Renate Neumann, the psychologist, was a kind middle aged woman, with short salt and pepper hair and a pair of glasses with a golden frame.  
She wanted from Henrik an input about Saga's former life to better understand the reasons of the amnesia.   
Henrik made a short summary of the events of Saga's past known to him.   
“I think she has a condition, she's so honest and direct to the point of being insensible, but I never had medical evidence. She is atypical, the traumas she suffered in her young age maybe had worsened a condition already existing. And the year spent in prison was very harsh for her. Saga was seeing a therapist after a serious panic attack, she suspended it when she decided to travel for a while.”   
By purpose he remained silent about the fall out they had after the abortion. It was something he and Saga still had to discuss together and he had a long apologize to voice.   
“It can be a short amnesia or a longer one, we cannot make a valid diagnosis, it will be better your partner’s therapist to continue the work.”   
She downloaded for him a short essay to read about cognitive therapy approach, which suggested different steps to treat amnesia, the first and most important was to give a sense of security to the patient, avoiding stress and offering a stable environment.  
“I suggest you to talk without upsetting Saga, so if she asks question you answer without scaring her, try to avoid for the immediate painful memories or add opinions to the facts.”  
Henrik nodded.  
“So I should only tell her the truth.”  
“If she asks you how is your home, you can describe it, but if she starts asking about your relationship, you shouldn't influence her.”   
“Ok. She asked me this morning who I am and I told we're best friends.”   
“Good answer, I think it won't be difficult for you. For experience, partners or close relatives are easily accepted by the patient… and easily remembered, too.” She added with a smile. 

 

The afternoon visit prompted more questions from Saga, Henrik answered remembering the suggestions from dr. Neumann.  
When Astrid and his parents called for updates, Saga discovered he had a teen daughter and asked to see her photos.  
Henrik was puzzled by the way Saga was accepting things with the support of the images; visual memory was one of his main features, not hers.  
They started looking at his photo album, Saga lamented her own was full of work related images only.   
“Am I too concentrated on my work?”   
“You are a great detective, the best I worked with.”  
There was a large hole in Henrik's photo chronology, Saga noticed Astrid’s photo were the most recent, lasting for a month only.  
The way Henrik was looking at his girl, Saga sensed something had happened and Henrik wasn't ready to explain. She stuck to trivial questions and small talk.  
“She’s beautiful. She has your face.”  
He nodded.  
“She’s smart and sensitive, she wants to be a painter.”  
“Does she like me?”   
“I think so, you had few occasions to bond.”   
“Was she with her mother?”   
“I lost my wife a long time ago.”  
Some photos of people gathered in a modern apartment appeared.  
Saga saw herself between Henrik and a woman with short dark hair and curious earrings.  
Henrik explained it was Lillian, his own boss and Saga’s friend, too; they were at her home more than a year before, red decorations on the table and a Christmas tree in a corner.  
Henrik was dressed in a dark suit and Saga with a melange cardigan and leather trousers.   
“I have those trousers, they are in the closet, with stains and a cut in a leg. My travel bag contains underwear and dirty t shirts only. I need something clean, can you go and buy for me clothes before we leave? I’ll pay you.”   
“Sure. What do you want?”   
“A pair of trousers, two t shirts and a cardigan. My size is European 36, or medium for t shirt. I read in my tags.”  
Henrik was happy her efficient attitude was intact, it was better than dealing with a confused and distressed woman. He felt the real Saga was there, hidden underneath some lawyers that she needed to lift, one by one.   
He helped her when dinner arrived: with an arm only, Saga had difficulties with the spoon and he took it and helper her. It was like when he was feeding soup to his little daughters. Saga was hungry, wanted food and Henrik cut the meat in small bits to eat with a fork only.  
“I don’t like this chicken, but there is nothing else. I remember recipes and tasty food, not who’s cooking. A large kitchen, modern?”   
She had smelled him the day before and now she remembered the taste of his food, Henrik thought it was a promising start.   
“Probably my kitchen, it has a fire island where you used to sit. You think I’m a good cook.”  
“We'll see if your image mirror the reality.”   
When Henrik got up at the end of visiting time, Saga looked at him in a strange way.   
“How do we use to say goodbye at the end of the day?”   
He was tempted to tell a little lie, it would be so beautiful to feel her lips again, to touch her cheeks and be close. But she didn’t deserve lies, she was a straight woman and he loved her for that very reason.  
“There's no routine, we see each other every day.”  
“What about a friendly hug?” 

 

 

Henrik didn’t sleep, it wasn't the different bed, he had too many things to process.  
She had asked him a hug, he had passed an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and he couldn't avoid to give her a kiss on the cheek, light and fast, so meaningful for him.   
He repeated to himself she was alone in a foreign country, she was in hospital and her head was not well, she clang to the first face she had proof belonged to her past, still he was sure she’d not ask anyone else such a thing.  
He had two big challenges to face, unplanned and unpredictable.   
There were similarities in learning to live again with a once lost daughter and a with a lover without memories. He was careful with Astrid, it was all so new, she wasn't a kid, easy to convince in doing things, she was quite a woman now, and Saga was a woman, and maybe they could help each other.  
This new Saga was fascinating – oh how much she had always been wonderful for him, since the first day, charmed by her honesty above all - and his main worry was her difficulty in dealing with changes.   
Saga woke up very early, after the sleeping pill lost effect.   
Henrik’s visit made her feel good, there was someone who cared about her, who arrived soon after she woke from her slumber.   
She was scared when she realised her memories were lost, her doctor comforted her, telling it was a possible reaction to the brain swelling and in the majority of cases the memory would be back in a variable amount of time.   
On Tuesday and Wednesday she had to endure a long list of examinations and she spent the afternoon in the ophthalmology department; her sight was assessed, the specialist feared a temporary damage on the ocular nerve when Saga lamented a blurred vision from her right eye. Saga had no time to think, moved from an examination room to another.  
The nurse told her the handbag was lost in her car and put in the first drawer a purse, a key and Saga’s phone.   
The evenings, when the hospital was silent, became a different matter.   
She tried to remember and all was white and foggy.  
A cold fear enveloped her heart.  
Who was she? From where she came from and how her life was?   
A policewoman briefly visited her on Wednesday, holding a small bunch of flowers and saying she was at the accident site; she had found out Saga was a foreign colleague, a detective, so the team at the police station was glad to know she was better and offered her flowers.  
There was also the language barrier, when she woke up and people started speaking in another language she grabbed the arm of the nurse and asked for help in English; it was like she was living under a glass bell, where people moved around her and she did not understand them.  
The nurse smiled and told her in English to be quiet, everything would be fine. And the whole staff did an effort to speak in that language, too, to keep her calm.   
The arrival of the Danish man had been a great surprise; he had a soft voice and she was able to understand him perfectly. His eyes were strange, grey and blue, there was something in them she really wanted to remember.   
His presence was soothing, the hours he patiently sat beside her, scrolling photographs and answering her questions. She wondered if in her life she ever asked more questions in a single day.   
They had examined her phone to see the internet chronology during the last weeks and she was able to made a rough map of the places she visited during her journey.

 

While shopping, Henrik sent Saga photos of the clothes he found in the local H&M store. Saga gave thumbs up for two short sleeves t shirts to let the casted arm pass, one white and the other grey, and a light brown cardigan.   
Henrik decided to mainly follow her usual style, but he bought also a pair of gym trousers with elastic belt, easy to wear with an arm only.   
In another store he found a pair of Levis' jeans in special offer, Saga approved.  
It was funny to buy things for Saga, the clerks – all young girls - were curious to see a man do the shopping instead of the female partner.   
He had nor time neither desire to dwell on his current sentimental situation, all that mattered was that Saga trusted his help.  
He bought a blue cardigan for Astrid with a white dog on the front and thinking about Saga's hair decided for a olive green beret, matching her coat. The weather was still cold and Saga could hide her dressing under it  
He had noticed the flowers on her nightstand and cursed himself for having forgot to bring some, so he reverted to a box of Belgian chocolate pralines from a well known brand.   
Saga texted him they had to talk when he'd be back, about what she refused to tell.  
At first, Saga examined each purchase and agreed with his choices, especially her new skinny jeans. Henrik wondered for how long she had used the leather trousers, were they the same pair or she had simply buy more of them?   
The beret was appreciated - Saga indeed would feel cold on her head and neck without long hair - while the pralines disappeared fast.   
When Henrik stored the new clothes in the closet, Saga took her phone.   
“I've read our conversations, we wrote each other extensively, compared to the other people in my list.”  
Henrik tried to remember if what they had written could make Saga nervous; he periodically deleted conversations, she had probably kept all theirs.  
“I went back in time. There is a gap after last weeks, lasting around a year and a half, then a few months of long conversations and the first text is you talking about a Lars Anderson.”  
“He was related to our first case together.”   
“Why the gap?”  
“We had no possibilities to text, you were away against your will.”   
“Where was I?”   
“Accused of a crime. After trial you went to prison. When new evidence was presented you were set free.”  
“Good. About last weeks’ texts, you often wrote you missed me, you felt alone and your bed was empty without me.”  
“That's true.”  
“The bed reference. Are we sleeping together?”   
Henrik whispered affirmative. Her brain had jump to the right conclusion. If only it was so easy to make her remember things.  
“Not only “sleeping”, right?”   
“More. We are. Were…. We are lovers.”  
The confirmation of her logical assumption made Saga glee with joy. It was good to remember thing this way, she wanted to try with older photos to have again her history. And she was glad the good looking man in front of her was her man.  
“Are or were?”   
“I think... I hope we still are. You kissed me on the lips when you left. I swear everything was ok between us.”   
“Good. A kiss is normal for lovers.”  
“It was special for me.”


	4. Chapter 4

CH 4

Saga sat on her hospital bed on Monday afternoon, dressed in her new cardigan and jeans, when Henrik entered. She waved the release paper in her left hand.  
“I’m free, we can leave.”  
“You're wearing glasses!”  
“They gave me a temporary pair because my right eye is a little blurred.”  
Henrik noticed the basic black frame and the earcups a little too long for Saga's ears.  
“We'll buy a proper pair at home.”  
“I've packed up my things.”  
She pointed at her small brown travel bag.  
Henrik draped the green coat over her shoulder - too narrow the sleeve for the cast – took the bag and lead Saga outside the building to his car.  
“Can we go see my car?”  
“Yes, if you don't mind staying in my hotel tonight, I prefer not to drive in the dark.”  
The mechanic who had collected the Porsche from the motorway was sad for the 911S.  
“A real pity. It was a great car . And you've been lucky to be quite unscathed.”  
He lead Saga and Henrik to the back area where the carcasses were stored.  
Henrik felt sick when he saw the remains of the hunter green car, unrecognizable. The photos were nothing compared to the reality in front of his eyes.  
The hood was reduced to a unformed piece of metal, the cockpit still visible, all glasses gone.  
Saga stared in silent at her old beloved car, she took off her phone and scrolled to the selfie she took with it outside the Porsche museum.  
A click. The last photo of her car.  
“The insurance company has already called here and we have sent them the photos and our report. I need to know what do you want to do with it.”  
Saga knew when a car was too damaged to be saved.  
Demolition, she whispered, then she turned to Henrik to prompt him to leave.  
The mechanic gave Saga a large plastic bag with the books he was able to get from the car.  
“Some were too greasy to be saved. This other bag was behind your seat. It's quite intact.”  
In Henrik's car, Saga took off the gift boxes from the Wien chocolate shop bag, one by one.  
“I bought chocolate and I wrote names. You, Astrid and Lillian. If I hadn't, now I'd never know for whom they are. John is related to work according to my phone. Two lost the tag.”  
She hold the smallest packet in her hand like she was weighting it.  
“Want one?”  
“Yes, thanks.”  
She freed the chocolate from the cover and ordered Henrik to open his mouth.  
He turned to see what she was offering him.  
“Mozart’s balls. Look at the road!”  
“What?”  
“The traditional Austrian bonbon. It's big, don’t choke, chew it.”  
He savoured the taste of marzipan, chocolate and nougat, she ate hers, feed him again and soon the box was empty.  
“Is there a restaurant in the hotel?  
“Are you hungry?”  
“Hospital food was horrible. Three bonbons each are a starter.”  
“I ate in the hotel restaurant, I was too tired to go out. It opens in around two hours, you can rest before dinner.”  
Henrik had a double room, the hotel was in partial renovation and the single rooms available were claustrophobic, so the hotel manager upgraded him for free. Saga looked at the large bed.  
“Do you want a single room?”  
“No, we sleep together at home and there is no need to change it. And I don’t want to be alone tonight for my arm.”  
The hotel furniture were in 80 style, the room modest but clean, a choice for business travellers with low budget and truckers, according to the huge parking area dedicated to them.  
Saga sat on the right side of the bed and Henrik looked at her with curiosity.  
“What's wrong?”  
“I use the left side.”  
“I know.”  
“You remembered it?” She shook her head.  
“It was a fifty fifty, but I was sure.”  
“Maybe it's a beginning of recollection.”  
The restaurant served abundant portions of typical German food, Saga went for wurstel and potatoes, Henrik choose a trout with vegetables.  
They retired for the night early, Henrik set the alarm clock at 6 in the morning when Saga called him from the bathroom, asking help to take off the shirt.  
“The nurse helped me this morning. I want to freshen me up.”  
“A shower?”  
“The cast is no water proof, I can take a bath keeping it out of water.”  
“Leave the door open and call me for help.”  
“To stand up. And you pass me the towel.”  
Saga relaxed in the tub, the hotel bath soap had a cheap smell and she took Henrik's from his bag on the shelf. Pine, his scent. She closed her eyes. Sandal, his after shave. A flash. A bathroom cabinet full of toeletries she liked to try.  
Taste and smell, her main allies in trying to remember things.  
Henrik answered her call with a warm towel he had placed on the bathroom heater, the sensation was pleasant and Saga wrapped it around her torso. Her man was a caring person.  
Henrik noticed she hadn’t hide her nakedness while he supported her body in leaving the tub, keeping his hands under her armpits for leverage. This was an aspect of the old Saga he remembered well.  
She entered the bed still with the towel on.  
“Are you going to sleep with that?”  
Saga stopped and looked perplexed. Was uncommon to wear a towel in bed?  
“I don't have a clean t shirt for the cast.”  
“One of mine is still clean. It’s larger.”  
The soft cotton was better than the towel and the sensation to be surrounded by his scent felt like a protection.  
Henrik went to the bathroom and when he was back Saga was sleeping; he carefully slide into the bed, pulling the covers over Saga and turning on his right side to protect her sleep.  
At breakfast Henrik had to talk about the domestic arrangements.  
Saga already knew she had given up her apartment.  
Her wounds, the cast, the impossibility to drive for a few weeks were elements supporting her staying at his house until her health would improve.  
He poured two glasses of orange juice and sat at their table.  
“Would you stay with me and Astrid? You can't drive for now.”  
“It's a good idea. Astrid will accept me? Does she know I’ve got amnesia?”  
She was afraid, Henrik read her facial expressions and felt better for having asked. He thought it was implicit, but with the old Saga he had learned at a very high price the necessity to explain things and feelings in detail.  
“I'm sure she will. She wants to meet you and I talked with her about your problem.”

 

On the way home Henrik and Saga stopped at his parents' to collect Astrid.  
A few days in the countryside did Astrid good, she made walks with her grandfather, young cousins and dogs, keeping a pace she could maintain. Her father learned from grandma his kitchen skills and Astrid was offered the best selection of food Margrethe Sabroe could cook. She was outside the house with her art pad when the Peugeot approached the entrance path.  
Saga saw the girl of the photos waving her hand and shouting at them.  
“I’m nervous.” she whispered leaving the car.  
“Don’t worry, you barely know each other. And you never met my parents, so there’s nothing to remember this time.”  
Astrid throw herself in her father’s arms and asked if he had a gift. He laughed, of course he had thought about her.  
He added Saga had also presents, yummy presents for everyone.  
“I can walk better, look! I went out with grandpa every day. Grandma, dad is here, come out!”  
Astrid moved around the yard and Henrik smiled approving.  
Saga observed a tall man with grey hair and a woman with a blue apron walking down the front stairs.  
Astrid stopped in front of Saga.  
“Hallo, I’m Astrid.”  
“Saga Noren.” She answered.  
“You’re the one who shoot, aren't you? He hadn’t time to see the bullet.”  
“Astrid please, not now.”  
“Dad, I just wanted to ask Saga about her precision.”  
“You’ll have all the time you want to talk with Saga and at 18 you two can go to the polygon together. Saga left hospital yesterday, let her breathe.”  
“Sorry, Saga. How’s your arm?”  
“Better.”  
The old Sabroes and Saga shook hands.  
Henrik’s mother had prepared hot drinks and snacks, after a long travel it was good to eat and sit on a soft couch. Saga offered the other chocolate box without name on it, it was pointless to keep it if she had no idea who the receiver had to be. Henrik’s mother - call me Margrethe, please – tried to make them stay for the night, but Henrik looked at Saga and politely refused. They had still an hour of driving and he wanted to help Saga making herself at ease, plus Astrid had to see the therapist the following afternoon.  
Saga read disappointment in the old woman face and took note to discuss with Henrik a future visit to his parents. 

 

Astrid was happy to be back home, she put her travel bag on a chair, took of her colours and drawings and called her old friend Kristin from the school, now living a few blocks away.  
Saga scanned the house and headed for the main bedroom, Henrik wanted to see if she recognized something. He passed twice along the corridor with the excuse to set new towels in the bathroom..  
Her bag was on the bed and she was storing the few clothes in the same drawer she used after prison. It was nothing, all top drawers were empty, since he stored away Alice’s things, so it was a pure chance she used the same. Probably is was handy for her.  
Henrik picked up her books from the various places in the living room, offered them to Saga who looked at every title and piled them in order on the small table in front of the television.  
She asked Henrik if it was a correct statement she liked to read a lot.  
He nodded, adding the books he had at home were only a small part of her belongings.  
Henrik busied himself with a two course meal, heating a bowl of fresh vegetable soup his mother gave him and cooking fried pork slices, easy to prepare; he had time to see what was happening around him.  
Saga approached him tentatively and asked if she could do something. The table setting, if she liked, Henrik proposed. She started randomly opening cupboards and drawers looking for cutlery and glasses; Henrik sighed, but he had to admit she never before offered him help in the kitchen and when he cooked she was often reading.  
Saga leaned on the fire island and observed Astrid doing stretching exercises; she has noticed her limping.  
“What happened to her leg?”  
“She was shot.”  
“And?”  
“Do you want to know? I’ve stopped her at my parents’ when she talked about it.”  
“Yes.”  
Henrik prompted Saga to move closer to the sink, where Astrid couldn't see them and in a low and tense voice started explaining the day the suspect, Kevin – Brian, sorry – rang his bell pretending friendship and ten minutes later had Henrik tied up and Astrid bound to a chair.  
Without the courage to make questions, Saga leaned into the sink to support her weight, slowly getting closer to Henrik.  
Her eyes were full open in disbelief and she nervously took a lip between her teeth.  
Henrik paused, checked her reaction, he could stop any time, she wanted him to go on.  
When Brian shoot Astrid in the leg, Henrik felt his own leg took the bullet, so strong was the anguish he felt.  
His voice became a whisper, he’d decided if Brian killed his daughter he’d killed Brian or die in the attempt. Life wasn’t worth living without his only surviving child.  
“After Anna, it would be too much.”  
“Who’s Anna?”  
“My younger daughter. They were abducted for a long time by a man who let Anna die of untreated appendicitis.”  
“The older survived, the younger died. Like me.”  
Henrik nodded, too absorbed in the recollection to realize Saga quoted her own past.  
He concluded with her perfect shot that pierced Brian’s head.  
“All happened here?”  
“In this room, I’ve cleaned it, for days traces of blood made the water cloth pink.”  
“I’ve killed a man. What if I wanted to forget that or other things?”  
“You killed a man on duty to save my daughter. I think you need to call your Malmo therapist, the one you consulted before leaving for your journey.”


	5. Chapter 5

CH 5 

Next Monday Saga took off the dressing and saw the wound was well cicatrized so she throw in the garbage the used bandage.  
Her head was a mess, near the wound thin new hair were growing, a lock has been cut to few centimetres, the rest was arranged like a inexpert gardener had cut random branches of a tree.   
She left the bathroom and joined Henrik for breakfast.   
“I have to cut my hair.”  
He silently thought she should have done something for her appearance years ago, but kept the idea to himself; he suspected she never had her hair done by a professional.   
“We can go to a hairdresser. I'll drive you.”  
“I don’t know where.”  
“Julia gave Astrid an address, we can book for two today and also go collect your new glasses.”  
The way Saga stared at the phone before dialling the number confirmed Henrik’s idea.   
She asked two appointments for the afternoon and was asked about her needs, Henrik heard words like brushing, drying, long or short haircut; Saga’s eyes darted around and she managed to say only a short cut and a shampoo. She ended the call and looked at Henrik in total confusion.  
“What was she talking about?”  
After leaving the optic with Saga’s glasses, a dark round frame that according to Astrid make her appear younger, they walked to the hairdresser.   
It was modern and stylish, white furniture from top to bottom; the staff wore black t shirt with the logo, there was music, neon lights, flowers on the entrance desk. Saga and Astrid were swiftly lead to two adjacent work positions and Henrik controlled them from a modern white armchair at the entrance.   
The customers weren’t only females, there were various men around, doing things to their hair and skin he had no idea existed. He watched a gay couple asking for the identical shade of dying and a young man pointing at an actor on a magazine to have the same cut. He thought to be a refined man in his appearance, but in a place like that he was a normal guy.  
He missed his old barber shop near the office, traditional and conservative, where he could have also his facial hairs done without this modernity.   
He feared it was too much for Saga, who was offered a catalogue; she passed it to Astrid like it was burning and his daughter explained Saga something while turning the pages. Blond and hazel heads got closer, Astrid’s hand pointed at a page, Saga nodded.  
Then Astrid called a girl of the staff, showed them what they wanted and Saga disappeared from Henrik’s sight while two hairdressers barely older than Astrid worked on her.   
Astrid soon joined her father with her brand new curls, that made her appear like a sophisticated girl and somehow remembered Alice to him. She wanted to show him how she had decided Saga’s new look. They were lost in commenting the photos not to notice Saga standing in front of them.   
When Henrik glimpsed two legs clad in jeans in his visual field, he looked up and got the reward of the day: the cut was short and simple, the hairdresser moved the riga from middle to the side to cover the traces of the wound, the hair were soft and lucent like silk. He had the impulse to touch them and his hand stopped mid way.  
“Do you like it?”   
“You're perfect.”  
“Sofie says I can use this cut if I want my hair get longer, so she can only make small adjustments. I’ll return here in six weeks to regulate the cut.”   
Henrik was speechless, was really Saga Noren the woman standing in front of him, at ease in a hairdresser shop? 

 

Saga looked at her reflections in the bathroom mirror after brushing her teeth for the night with her left hand, a task that required double time than usual.   
She was different with short hair, a new look that felt good on her, like she was developing a new personality to face the amnesia.  
If it lasted for long, she had to cope with a life to build while trying to recover from her wounds. They all had wounds, Henrik a scar on his leg, related to a case, he said; he did not care, work was his only reason for living, when his girls were missing, when they met and he asked her help.   
She returned to the bedroom and looked at Henrik already sleeping.  
He went out after dinner, Astrid said he attended a support group for addicts, but he was reserved about it.  
He was dressed only in his boxers, lying over the covers, it was hot inside the room; Saga thought to lower the heater, after she get a painkiller, having forced her shoulder the wrong way. Henrik had a glass of water on the nightstand, Saga took it to gulp the pill and an imaged flashed, herself standing in that room, on his side of the bed, holding a small plastic box. She opened his first drawer without making noises, started rummaging into it.  
A watch, herbal candies, an empty wallet, a phone charger, paper tissues. Nothing useful. The vision lingered in her brain for a while, then faded. Saga focused on the man asleep, the bamboos outside the window casted strange shadows over his body.  
Her wyes roamed on him. observing the way his chest moved with every breath. It was a beautiful sight, a well toned body, just the beginning of a swelling on his hips, muscular legs, visible veins in both hands.   
Saga felt a rush of desire, she wanted to touch him. to feel his body around hers. He had been a gentleman since she returned, never approaching her in bed or elsewhere. She wondered if he still saw her attractive or it was only her cast arm that prevented him. saga supposed they had sex before she went away, so it was more than a month of abstinence. 

Waiting for the lift, Henrik and Saga stood side by side in the hall of ground floor. A curious situation, the meeting with Saga's therapist: Henrik remembering everything, unaware of what the doctor knew, Saga unsure of what she had already discussed in therapy.   
Saga lifted her hands, trembling lightly, Henrik smiled to reassure her.   
A whole family in therapy, the modern way of dealing with traumas and painful events. Henrik realise the NA meetings were not enough, he should have seen a doctor earlier, one better than the counselling he had shortly after the disappearance; maybe the fall out with Saga could be avoided. But now they were at the practice door, ringing the bell.   
The doctor made them at ease, the situation was awkward, she imagined the difficulties Saga was facing, but she needed to assess the level of amnesia with Henrik’s help.  
“I'm a detective on temporary leave and I was travelling around Europe. I have no living relatives. I'm in a relationship with Henrik and we live together with his daughter Astrid. I've been in prison for a year. You're my therapist, but I don’t remember you.”  
“A correct description, it follows what you told me before.”  
“Henrik yesterday told me I saved his daughter killing a man on duty.”   
“Did you remember by yourself what you told me or through Henrik?.”  
“I had confirmations of everything by Henrik or by my former boss Linn.”  
“No autonomous recollections?”   
“I'm not sure, but I think I had a younger sister, last week when Henrik told me about his other daughter it felt so.”  
The therapist confirmed all the facts Saga had listed were indeed true and object of their sessions.  
“Are you going to tell me what else we discussed?”   
“No, unless complications arise about your welfare. I suggest you both to continue taking things slowly.”  
“Traumas regarding my sister or other people could be the reason I'm fine now with Henrik and Astrid and I don’t want to remember my past?”   
“In my experience it is impossible to hide things for ever. You need your time, probably the more you'll feel safe, the easier it will be to have memories back. You need to build a stabile ground before facing what can make you unstable.   
” 

Saga needed a strong painkiller and a bed to rest.  
Her cast had been removed, replaced by a tutor, so she started working on her arm again. It was painful, every movement she had to do, every effort in using the limb, the loss of muscle, an arm half the size of the other.   
Astrid said she suffered the same pain when she started walking again.   
Henrik offered Saga to cook her favourite Indian rice, she ignored him, refused dinner, took the pill and closed the bedroom door.   
Father and daughter exchanged a meaningful half smile.  
Saga was tired, the freedom from the cast meant also she was back to normal, but her memories were too few and without them she'd never be reinstated at work.   
She wanted to be active, to do things, if she had been police she could continue, strong was the need to find her lost past.   
She had been dependent on Henrik and his car to go around, he insisted more than once to give her a set of house keys and she replied they were always out together, so there was no need.

 

Lamps in full power, neon white around her, dazzle, eyes shut but still light forcing its way under the eyelids, blindness, pain.  
The lights go off, except one pointing at a painting. A circle of paintings framed in enormous baroque frames.   
Gory scenes, blood, dismembered limbs, the beheaded torso of a woman.  
She is forced to watch, standing on a platform that turns following the light and she sees all the eight representations, each at the same distance from the other.   
The last one is a live scene, Henrik half naked, tied to a chair, his chest cut open and his pulsing heart lying on his tights. He tries to stand up to get to her but every effort makes his chest bleed more and his heart beat slower.   
She wants to scream but her lips are sutured up and when she tries to open them the string tears open her skin.   
Her arms hurt because they are tied together over her head, the rope digging in all her fingers, white for the absence of blood.   
A figure appears and moves around her, pointing at something.   
She follows the direction and see the man, without his right hand, a loop around his neck. She has to call him by name, her mouth now free, but she don't remember it. He turns and tells her she needs a hug and he cannot give it to her now.  
The figure tells Saga to kiss her father for the last time.  
She tries to oppose – he is not my father – and the loop tightens around her own neck.   
The man uses his stump to caress her cheek and she backs off in horror, until the platform disappears under her feet, the rope tenses and all goes black.

 

Saga woke up screaming, throwing away the covers in a frantic reaction and kicking Henrik hard with her knee.   
He was immediately reactive, turning on the lamp and watching her, face contorted in horror and struggling to breathe.   
His first impulse was to calm Saga, he tried a hug and at first she refused, fisting him in the chest, then she collapsed into him.   
A knock on the door, Astrid asking what was happening, Henrik answering just a scary dream, no reason to be worried.   
Saga asked for some water and Henrik winced when he stood up and saw the red sign on his tight, she hadn’t noticed the kick in her frenzy fury.   
He offered a glass and sat on her side of the bed.  
“Want to tell me about?”   
The vivid details of the nightmare, she had messed up fragments of a case with the fear to loose people she cared.   
“Hans, your boss, was a father figure for you.”   
“I remember the severed hand, in a gory place. You are with me, I feel you and Hans is dead.”   
“We found him in a ghost train, he was unconscious then slipped in a coma, never recovering.”  
“Why him and not my real father?”   
“He died in the same period, you're mixing up them. We found Hans killer before he hang himself with his father, so the setting.”  
Saga took her phone to see if she had conversations with Hans, all texts were erased.   
She closed her eyes in a effort to sink further in the past.   
“Hans with a woman, I remember her in my photos...”  
“His wife, Lillian.”  
“Your boss, Lillian Larsen! Now I got the link between them and us.”   
Saga was panting like after a run. Henrik feared an attack. She got up to grab a block note with a pen and started writing names and making connections.  
Henrik let her work, observing how she formulated theories on the right side of the sheet. When her concentration started fading and she fell asleep again he turned off the lights and collected the notes from her lap. 

 

Henrik had asked Saga to declare she was temporary living in Denmark with him to make the medical matters easier. He had to cope with Astrid's counselling and physiotherapy, plus her check ups for the leg, so if he could take Saga to the same hospital it would be better.  
Saga could be a stubborn woman and he know well, beside the memories of Swedish hospitals, his leg and Saga’s abortion, weren't pleasant at all.   
She stated his logic was correct, she started her own rehabilitation together with Astrid and Henrik thanked God he could minimize the coming and going. The tutor was helpful to ease the pressure and keep the limb protected, but she started reducing its use.  
“We need another car.”  
“Cool. Are you going to buy one? Can I come and see?”   
Saga’s statement during dinner and Astrid’s enthusiastic reaction left Henrik surprised.   
He had not time to think about cars, but it was clear Saga was ready to drive again.  
“You're right, what would you like to buy?”   
“The insurance money arrived last week. I want to see if I find another sportive car, my budget is double the insurance.”  
“We could ask Tobias' garage for a sportive.”  
“Who is he?”   
“We met him during our last case, he owns a garage in Malmo, you need a Swedish plate.”  
“Good. We go and see tomorrow, Astrid is it ok for you?”   
“I've never bought a car before. Dad told me all about your 911.”  
“911S. It was written in the manual.”  
“911S. Was it a famous car? “  
Saga and Astrid started doing an internet research about historic cars while Henrik cleaned the table, Astrid printed a photo and opened her colour box. .  
Tobias recognized them and wasn’t friendly with Saga.  
“Did I do something wrong to him?” Saga asked when the man answered a call in the other office.  
Astrid was reading some magazines on a chair under the window and Henrik kept his voice low.  
“Barbara told me you saw his son and wife and you stated he couldn't be the father.”  
“Why?”   
“The baby had brown eyes and he and the mother blue. The father could be his brother, according to the case info.”  
“Are we really sure? Is Tobias sterile?”   
“I don't know, but it is not relevant for us now.”  
“Wait.”  
Saga took her phone, scrolled the browser for a while and then showed Henrik the journal of genetics. The most recent discoveries demonstrated the traditional vision Saga referred to wasn't correct; she had to explain.  
When Tobias returned, Saga wasted no time.  
“I did a wrong assumption regarding your son. I was wrong, I quoted a theory that has been refuted. Two blue eyed parents can have a brown eyed child, if in their families there is the gene. It happens seldom, but it has been demonstrated. Here, look at this article.”  
The more Tobias read, the more his eyes shed tears.  
“Thank you, thank you.” He repeated over and over.   
“My partner was in a moment of extreme tension when she spoke with you. Now things are settled, can we discuss about cars?”   
Tobias had a BMW Z4 and an Audi TT to offer for the moment, Saga tried them with Astrid - delighted to experience speed and power - saw the mileage, compared the prices and said she'd prefer something more recent.   
“I want a safe car, with new protection system and comfortable driving style. I can wait a little, we have a car, but to carry around Astrid the car must pass a total revision.”  
Tobias promised to make some calls and offer more alternatives.   
Astrid talked about cars all the way home, Saga promised her that if dad agreed, at 18 she would teach her for the driving licence and then she could drive her car.  
“You never let me drive yours!” He blurted out.  
“Astrid only! Not you. And she will have her own car, to be independent.”


	6. Chapter 6

CH 6

Astrid struggled frantically to open the front door. She had run off from Kristin's dad car, her heart beating fast. She needed to hide into her bedroom and get her mantle.  
Images were chasing each other in her head, she felt her brain was exploding.  
The keys fell once, then twice, until Saga from the inside unlocked the door.  
Astrid pushed it, forgetting she had to pull instead, fighting against the wood.  
Saga was moving in the other way and when Astrid abandoned the grip Saga was caught off balance and her head hit the wooden surface.  
Astrid passed over her, throw her bag on the floor and run into her bedroom, opening violently the closet, piling her clothes in a bunch on the bed, looking for something.  
Saga got alarmed, Henrik was having a meeting with his therapist and later was supposed to go to the supermarket, he’d be home in an hour, she hoped no need to call him. Was she equipped to deal with this kind of behaviour?  
Astrid didn't turn when Saga called her name.  
Her search become more furious, then she grabbed something dark and stood up, trying to close the door.  
Saga was faster in keeping it open with a feet, Astrid was strong and Saga had a good arm only, but she managed to push enough to enter the bedroom.  
Astrid tried to run away, heading for the entrance, still holding the bundle to her chest; Saga glimpsed a dark tissue. Saga had cleverly locked the front door and picked up Astrid's keys, hiding them in her pocket, so Astrid had no easy way out.  
The girl's features were contorted by rage and fear; Astrid was hyperventilating, she seemed ready to go against Saga who acted by instinct, a move of self defence enough to block Astrid on the floor, her left arm twisted on the back, Saga’s knee keeping her pinned down.  
“Stay calm, breathe. I’m going to call Henrik if you promise to be quiet, ok?”  
Astrid was subdued, but Saga waited before releasing her and grabbing the phone; when she ended the call Astrid had not moved form the floor.  
Saga knelt near her and slowly put an arm around her shoulders-  
“What happened?”  
“I was afraid.”  
“Of what?”  
Saga made an effort to remember all Henrik told her about the traumas his daughter suffered.  
“Of growing up, I don’t want to become an adult.”  
“Everyone grows.”  
“I don' t want. I was at Kristen’s and her big sister is going away to London for Erasmus and they were happy but they cried. I don’t want to go away.”  
“You don’t have to go away. You’ve got to study for a long time.”  
“I want to stay with dad and you, but you’ll leave like my mother did. You’ll get your car and memory and won't need dad anymore and I'll be alone.”  
“I'm not leaving, I need your father. I like to live here with Henrik and you.”  
“I heard you and dad, you said to get back to Malmo”.  
“It was about going there to study in a Swedish university. I simply told Henrik I could stay in a hotel for a night only in case of need.”  
When Henrik arrived, Astrid wanted to stay in her room and refused dinner, he tried to talk to he with no results, she turned her face to the wall.  
Saga reported the fear of loneliness, of being abandoned. Henrik head throbbed painfully, he had not realised how much Astrid needed a real family around her.  
During the time Saga was away, thrice Astrid had dark moods. She started drawing with fury, tearing the paper with the force of her hand. He discussed with her and her doctor about it, mulled about Julia’s statement that Astrid needed a mother. He couldn’t force himself to get back into dating: he did wrong with Alice and he loved her, how worse it could be without deep feelings. And more, he was already in love, had been for two years, he didn’t want a random woman, he wanted his own.  
With Saga back, life become more complicated, seeing them interact and understanding how much Astrid needed a female presence.  
Saga was worried to have hurt Astrid while she restrained her from leaving; she went to bed early, no desire to read, use her pc or listen with Henrik a classic music cd he played to calm him.  
When she took off her trousers, she touched the keys, still in her pocket; putting them on the nightstand, the shape was familiar. She opened her closet and took of the keys she was given by the nurse in hospital.  
Identical. Henrik's keys. A proof of trust and a sign of their relationship.  
She went to him and he lowered the newspaper he was absently reading, his face curious.  
“I got your keys.”  
“I told you to take them, it's ok.”  
“I mean before. This keys were in my personal belongings in the hospital. I did not know which door they opened until now.”  
“When you lived here, you used them.”  
“You wanted me to keep them while I travelled?”  
“Yes, so you could feel there was a place you could get beck in case of need.” 

 

Henrik turned the tv on for the evening news; he had driven Astrid to Kristin’s house to watch a DVD with her friend. Saga cleaned the table and took out her computer.  
“I’ve found my passwords so I opened my drop box. Lots of file saved, also videos.”  
They had video chats while Saga was away, in the privacy of his bedroom and in the anonimity of her hotel room. He didn’t save them and was happy Saga did differently.  
She looked at him and saw she had all his attention while he opened the desired file.  
“We talked about lots of things, but once we felt lonely, do you remember?”  
He remembered everything as soon the video started. 

_____

Saga was staying the night in Stuttgart, she was on her hotel bed, legs crossed, wearing a bathrobe after a shower, her hair wet, drying them with a towel.  
Her skin was red from the hot water, she started scratching at the base of her neck and the bathrobe slowly opened.  
Henrik suggested her to use the body lotion from the hotel welcome set and Saga collected it from the bathroom. While applying the lotion, Henrik stated her face was darker than the cleavage, a few days before she climbed with the cable car up to a glacier in the Alps, was it the hig mountain sun?. Saga looked down and saw the difference between the v neck of the t shirt she usually wore and the skin that remained normally covered. Up at the mountain hut she saw people getting a tan after skiing and she spent some time facing the sun, too. She found the line of her own tan and further opened the bathrobe, until Henrik saw her breast and took a deep breath.  
She looked into the camera, asking him what was wrong.  
“Nothing,” he replied, “you’re so beautiful.”  
“Do you want to see more?”  
“Please.”  
She let the bathrobe slide from her shoulders and her torso was in full show.  
“Oh God.” Henrik felt like he was having a vision, imagining Saga there with him.  
“Your turn.”  
Henrik got up, locked the door of his bedroom and back in bed took off his t shirt.  
Saga's gaze roamed on his bare chest, she murmured something unintelligible, then she started opening the belt, revealing her full nakedness.  
Henrik loved the vision of beauty, he missed Saga, missed her presence, her voice, her warmth in bed at night.  
When she passed an hand over her stomach and lower, spreading her legs, his body reacted.  
His hand went lower, too, he touched himself, usually he kept his eyes closed when he wanted a personal satisfaction, but this time he needed to see her; it was worse than real sex, but better than loneliness, calls and texts.  
“You're hard.” She declared. “Off everything. I want to see.”  
More than happy to comply, he followed the request and his manhood sprang free. Saga's eyed narrowed on him, she moved the computer to better focus on her and told him to do the same, then she started bringing herself to orgasm.  
They forget the rest of the world, too concentrated on the sight of them both getting a release inflamed by the knowledge the other was watching.  
After a few minutes to regain a normal breath, Henrik took a towel to clean himself while Saga wrapped the bathrobe again. A sudden chill spread into her.  
_________

Watching the video and remembering the scene, together, made Henrik’s cheeks red: he never had internet sex before, he had been happy they had connected at that level, but now the real thing was beside him and he was afraid.  
Since their first time, she had been his only woman; the night he picked up Tanja from the club, when Saga called asking about Alice, he felt a rush of impossible hope filling his body: Saga was again on the hunt.  
He tried to erase hope, tried to resume intercourse, but his body refused to cooperate. Tanja soon left, laughing at him for being dishonest. If he wanted to make the telephone woman jealous, he better not promise her the stars in bed. Henrik found himself naked in the living area, searching for the case folders; they were nowhere to be found, Saga must have taken them.  
“Were we always compatible together in bed?” Saga asked, switching off the computer  
“This and more.”  
“Good. It has been five weeks since I’m back, my arm is free. If you want to resume our physical connections, I'm ready.”  
“I cannot take advantage of you.”  
“It isn’t advantage, I like you and you like me, don’t you? I assume I never made videos with other men. I haven’t find any in my files.”  
“I cannot force you to make love to me if you don’t feel for me or you only want to thank me.”  
“You'll see how much I want you.”  
He wanted her, so much it hurt sometimes.  
“Not tonight. Astrid told me about Julia wanting to have her for a week end soon, if she sleep there we’ll be alone.”  
“Good. Get condoms, the doctors told me after the accident I had vaginal blood not period related so they took the IUD from me. I’m on the pill, but it’s the first month.” 

 

Saga received on line the confirm of bank payment for the storage unit of her former apartment's furniture. She asked Henrik to go there.  
The place was cold and the layers of anonymous containers gave a oppriment sensation. Saga's was on the floor level, the most expensive of the lot, the higher they were, the lower the price.  
Astrid said it was a place where people stored their memories. Henrik felt a sudden chill: the secret room, he had forgotten the storage could remind his baby of her old space.  
The first thing Saga noticed were the boxes of books.  
“You told me I read a lot but do I own all these?”  
“Yes, and you gave me those you couldn’t store here, I've kept them at my parent's.”  
She opened a box and read a few titles. Sociology, psychology, history, anthropology.  
“How many time do I need to read them again?”  
“You start, maybe some will click memories in your head. Make a selection for now, we can return here whenever you want, I’ll buy scaffolding in the living area to store them.”  
A box was full of kitchen furniture, she offered Henrik to keep them or throw away if he wasn't interested, he decided to bring the box home and evaluate later. He wanted to run away as soon as possible, still he could not show his uneasiness too much.  
Astrid noticed the round white table and the matching chairs.  
“It was in a design magazine, I'm sure. It's from a Norvegian firm, it is very trendy now. Nordic vintage is called.”  
“I bought it from a second hand shop, never assumed...”  
“Saga! You remembered where you bought it, it’s good!”  
Astrid was smiling, her hands moving in the air to emphasize the achievement.  
Saga stopped and passed her hand over the polished surface; turning to Henrik she asked if they could take it home with the chairs. There was a large space near the tv, they could use it as a desk to read or study.  
He swiftly lifted it up and Astrid took one of the chairs.  
Two chairs, better buy another one, he stated while opening the car boot. He moved the car, pretending he needed the daylight to turn down half of the back seat, asking Astrid to call his mother for a recipe he remembered well, everything to keep his daughter outside the dark shed.  
Saga continued her exploration, she found two blue Ikea bags full of bed linens, a standard lamp, two nightstands and over them a plastic box for a4 sheets.  
She stared at it for a long minute, then sat on the remaining chair and with trembling hands caressed the box, whispering a name.  
Henrik returned alone, ready to take away the chair, saw her gesture and realised Saga was distressed. She heard him and lifted her head.  
“I've find my sister.”  
Saga kept the box on her legs during the travel home, Astrid busied herself with a book about mathematics she found in the closest box, Henrik drove carefully, the Peugeot was full to the brim. Henrik talked about making changes at home, using the area near the back windows, asking Astrid’s advice. Saga’s silence was uncomfortable.  
After they discharged the car, Saga sat on the couch and opened the box, examining her memories of Jennifer, photos, school results, the play they went to see at theatre and the last gift Jennifer bought for Saga's birthday, a used collection of Ibsen's plays.

 

“Did I told you about Jennifer?”  
Saga was kneeled on the floor late in the evening, all Jennifer things spread in circle around her. Henrik closed his eyes, it was the way she used to handle the girls' case.  
“Yes, I know about her.”  
“She killed herself, I found a medical report”  
“You loved her so much.”  
Saga squeezed her eyes, hard. There was something she had to grasp, but it was sliding away too fast.  
She grabbed Henrik’s arm like she wanted to catch her memory, not letting it float away.  
And she felt the connection. Night, trains, coldness, fear.  
The voice that woke her up from her trance, the embrace that saved her from the ultimate fall.  
She stared at her man with huge eyes.  
“I went at a railroad track and you came to me.”  
She was shaking like that night, he moved back in time, the scene clear in his mind.  
“I was so worried to lose you.”  
Henrik moved closer and slowly opened his other arm, to invite Saga in. “That was the moment all changed for me, you became the most important woman in my life.”  
Her grip increased, becoming painful, he didn't protest.  
Then suddenly she let him go and Henrik was fast in hugging her.  
Fear of rejection, of denial, instead she stayed.  
“I remember now, I was close to jump.”  
“I told you I need you.”  
“I think I need you, too.”  
They talked, remembering more details of that night; Henrik confirmed they were together since and Saga wanted to know why she went away alone.  
You’ll have to find the answer, was his reply.  
They fell asleep on the couch, Astrid went to the bathroom in the middle of the night and saw them, Saga’s head on Henrik’s chest, his arm around her shoulders; she took a blanket from the wardrobe and covered them both


	7. Chapter 7

CH 7 

Henrik and Astrid were waiting for Saga in the Peugeot under her therapist’s practice.  
They had spent the morning at home, renovating the back garden; Henrik had cleaned off old roots and small plants and Saga studied on internet with Astrid to have inspirations about the flowers to buy.  
When Saga arrived, they headed to a large department store she assured had a large offer for Dit and gardening. The purchases were many and they filled the first cart.  
“I'll put turf and flowerpots in the car, you stay here, I'll be back to choose the flowers.”  
Henrik left pushing the cart toward the exit, Astrid entered a music and games store and Saga examined better the garden furniture, hers the idea to buy table and chairs to eat outside in the warm season; gripping a tag to see the price of a wooden set, she heard her name called by a male voice.  
Not Henrik. She turned and saw a head shaved guy with a light beard, around thirty, pushing a cart full to the brim; at his side a woman with a toddler in her arms.  
The man bent forward a little, like he was ready to hug Saga, who looked at him with a puzzled face. He stopped, noticing her confusion.  
“I'm Jakob. Don’t you remember me?”  
“No.”  
“We cohabitated briefly four years ago. This is my wife Laura and our little Theodor.”  
They politely shook hands while Saga tried to process his words.  
Laura seemed to pass over the meeting of her husband with an ex partner and soon left for the bathroom to change the baby; Jakob was fast in asking questions.  
“Don’t you really remember me?”  
“I've had a car accident. Brain swelling and memory damage, I'm better now.”  
“Do you still live in that apartment? I’m sorry I tried to fill it with my things. I hoped we could get along but it wasn't mean to be. How's your work?”  
“I live in Denmark for now. I'm not working at present.”  
Saga noticed Jakob was staring at something behind her; she turned, Henrik was approaching, telling something about her wallet forgotten between the seats.  
He passed it to Saga and faced the man.  
Saga introduced Henrik as her partner and Jakob as the boyfriend she once cohabitated with.  
Henrik was relieved she had declared their relationship, he had been immediately curious about the man.  
A friend was impossible, knowing Saga, Jakob wasnt' the police type, so Henrik had been right in imagining he was an ex.  
Young, good looking, in shape. A little jealousy. Without Saga's memory back, there was still the fear she'd change her mind about them.  
Saga had lived with a man before, Henrik remembered it well, the morning she declared she'd live in his house until their baby would be born.  
He was so happy at the prospect of sharing house and pregnancy that Saga's previous failure passed unnoticed. Then with the break up, Astrid and all that happened after, he forgot Saga's past lover.  
They had been forcefully faithful to each other in a difficult time, but deep in his gut insecurity remained.  
Astrid's return, holding a cd in special offer, distracted Henrik from his thoughts. Celtic music, for relaxation. Astrid liked to hear music when drawing, she felt more inspired and Henrik was glad she wasn’t into heavy metal.  
Saga was asking Jakob about a child, Henrik missed the connection until a woman joined them with a baby, prompting Jakob to say goodbye and leave.  
In the car full of coloured and perfumed blossoms, while Astrid was on the cuffs listening to the music, Henrik asked about Jakob.  
“He said we lived together at my old place for a few weeks. From his good looking, I can imagine I've been attracted to him, on a physical level, I mean.”  
Henrik breathed relief; old sex partners weren't a serous menace.  
“The boy is seven months, Jakob said they both do wanted him. Laura is older than Jakob, I think he likes older women. I don’t remember if he asked me about children then.”  
Henrik knew he had asked, theoretically, too soon and he had acted, accidentally, too much.  
His faults were many, but the failure of the copper coil wasn't one of them.

 

“Why I’ve got few things?”  
The therapist stopped her pen. First time Saga touched the subject of ownership. She felt there was something related to the way she valued things and people she wanted to explore. She tried with Henrik who seemed reluctant to talk about that topic.  
“Not everybody like to own.”  
“I've compared my belongings with Henrik's. He has memories of his youth, photos, gifts received. His house is comfortable and well furnished.”  
Saga had asked Henrik where her old apartment had been; they drove under the building, Henrik pointed at her former windows and explained the owner had asked him to be fast in putting her things in storage when Saga was forced to end up the rent, so many were the requests he had.  
“Do you think you'll feel better with more things? Or you'd feel simply more normal?”  
“I accumulate books.”  
“You value them. Few people read a lot like you.”  
“I found my knowledge in books, while I read them again. I remember pages and images, not experiences.”  
“Your experiences are still to uncover. “  
““I’m sure they aren’t important as my books.”  
Saga started an extensive reading programme asking Henrik to bring home more books.  
The shelves he bought were soon full and Astride joined Sagas' hobby. History books and biographies became her favourites.  
Henrik started with audio books when he was cooking: he had to keep him busy, temporary leave left him with a huge amount of time and Astrid and Saga needed each private moments he wanted to respect. They spent a week at his parents and while Astrid and Saga were spoiled by his mother, Henrik went for long walks, alone. Physical exercise was doing him good, the weight scale told him he was getting fatter, plus he needed to reflect.  
He had to decide to give exams or no, one of Lillian colleagues was near retirement and that place would be vacant soon. 

 

Julia and her husband Pelle collected Astrid on their way to the train station; their oldest daughter was back from the grandparents in Odense and Astrid was excited to spend Friday night with her cousins.  
Henrik passed her the night bag before giving a kiss on the cheek and recommending to call him; Saga accompanied Astrid to the car, Julia wasn’t friendly with Henrik.  
She noticed the big hug Astrid received from her aunt, who stood by the girl in a protective way, the way mothers do. Astrid locked gaze with Saga, a strange look in her eyes; Julia was describing Astrid what they’d do at home with her daughters and Saga felt it wasn’t right. Henrik was doing everything for his daughter, she deserved it and he deserved to be recognized and appreciated as a father; Saga wanted his efforts to be rewarded.  
She concentrated, something Henrik once said, plans and ideas they had to delay due to her arm, until inspiration struck.  
“On Sunday Henrik wants to go to the swimming pool, if your daughters wants to come with us.”  
Astrid’s face showed happiness, a new thing to do together.  
A fast cloud over Julia’s face. The women faced each other in a silent battle, Saga wasn’t afraid to claim her presence in Astrid’s life.  
“We’re away on Sunday, but we can do it next time.”  
“Sure, next time.” Saga wanted to repeat the offer, for Astrid, but she was sure Julia would never accept it.  
Henrik returned from the bathroom and suddenly the house seemed empty; for a moment he feared to be alone again, then he saw Saga kneeled to search a bowl in the lowest drawer.  
When he took out the pan with the baked sea brem, she dressed the salad.  
Help in the kitchen was something the former Saga would never do, Henrik repeated himself that maybe Saga had never the pleasure to cook with someone. Or for someone.  
Henrik ate giving continuous glances at his phone to see if Astrid was writing.  
“She's enjoying herself, she won’t write. Call her and remember Sunday we go to the swimming pool. Your idea.”  
“What?” Henrik’s mouth opened, what was Saga talking about?  
“I told Julia we’re going there. She was undermining your efforts with Astrid. Julia can dislike you, but you’re the father, she has to remember it”  
“But do you like to swim?”  
“Not my favourite sport, but Astrid is happy at the idea.”  
“I don’t want you to do things you don’t like.“  
“It will be good for my arm and we can find a place with some water games, hot water, hydromassage. This long winter is hard on us.”  
Henrik called his baby, heard joy in her voice, both for the swim idea and for being with her cousins. She ended up the call soon, it was her turn with the Nintendo games,  
“I feel forgotten.”  
“Teens are often so. They are opening themselves to the world and forget people that just an hour before were important.”  
He poured more sauce on Saga’s fish.  
“How did we got together?”  
Her direct questions, no hesitations, no embarrassment, he loved her old self.  
“We met after work at a single club event at the arena and spent the night together.”  
“Straight to the point?”  
“No wasting of time. Speaking of wasting…”  
Henrik took from the fridge the cake he bought, covered in cream and strawberries, cutting it in four portions.  
She took her slice and then another one, only a quarter remained. Henrik was full and refused the bis. It was for her, he said.  
“I'll eat it tomorrow morning for breakfast, fruits are a good start for the day.”  
“And cream a good start for the night.”  
He passed a finger in the white cover and offered it to lick. A bold gesture, but he had anticipated their night, especially after meeting Jakob. It was a unusual seduction, but a seduction nevertheless. More than a month simply sharing a bed, nothing more, was hard to bear.  
Anticipation of being together again, it was like starting all anew.  
He had decided to let his instinct run free this time, after thinking a lot if it would be better to have straight sex their old matter-of-fact way or if he could play with a hint of lovemaking and see if Saga would follow.  
He well remembered her declaration of love and the difficulty to shift focus from sex to love for Saga.  
She accepted the unusual fork and ate all the cream, locking gaze with him. Henrik 's nostrils dilated, so Saga licked more  
Enough to make Henrik move, he stood up, went to the other side of the table; she followed his gesture and they faced each other.  
Henrik tentatively passed an arm around her waist, lightly, pulling to close the gap between their bodies. She complied and started moving against him, feeling the hardening inside his trousers.  
She took his hand and lead him to the bedroom.  
Henrik embraced Saga again, bowed his head a little to be eye to eye and slowly started a soft kiss on the lips; she didn’t turn her head but her lips remained closed, he sensed it was still a difficult point for Saga, so he moved his mouth lower, licking her neck, nuzzling her ear, happy to hear her low moans.  
She took the collar of his shirt and started opening the first button, then the second, passing her hand on the skin she could reach.  
He stopped, the sensation of her hands on him was so strong he needed to sit down. He manovered them so that he could sit on the bed, saga between his spread knees, pulling his shirt off his trousers, caressing his shoulders.  
Henrik reciprocated with her t shirt, sliding his hand under it to feel her skin, tracing small patterns on her stomach and chest, up to her breast. Every new gesture was an attempt to increase the contact, the intimacy, slowly, fearing rejection, somehow expecting it.  
She raised her arms and Henrik got the message, her t shirt met the floor.  
His hand on her back, on the bra clasp, asking permission, obtaining it.  
Henrik looked at the soft mounds, caressed them with the tip of his fingers, until Saga's hands covered his. He was lost, he embraced Saga and breathed her skin, not caring how they’d proceed, just the absolute joy to have her again.  
She felt warmth all over her, her desire growing with the awareness that she wasn't a virgin and surely had her share of man before Henrik, but this felt a new beginning. Her man trusted her, she was safe with him, because her instinct told her whatever she wanted, he‘d complied.  
She pushed Henrik on the bed and was on him, unbottoning his trousers, sliding them off his legs, getting rid of her own.  
Both naked, she started touching Henrik from his neck then went lower, wanting to create a new map of his body. 

 

Saga lied awake, listening to the soft breaths of a sleeping Henrik; it has been a satisfactory session in bed, they were good together, he was skilled and did things she liked a lot, adding a moment of boldness when for the second intercourse he took her from behind, something he declared they never did before.  
A couple for two years. And before? Jakob said theirs had been a short relationship. Other significant men? Serious relationships? Engagements? She suspected a negative answer, it was important to know and at the same time not with Henrik by her side.  
They met at a single club, so both were looking for a partner. A club seemed an efficient way to find a partner, she took her tablet and searched on internet, hoping to remember something. She found the site, the list of events and the rules, nothing helpful; she opened her membership page and saw she attended one event only. So they hooked up immediately, but if they were already colleagues, why they used the club? They sure had better occasions to be together. What was she really looking for? And Henrik?  
.


	8. Chapter 8

CH 8 

The holiday idea had roots in the weeks after Astrid was found. Henrik had soon desired to be somewhere else, in a place neither of them visited before, to build new memories, to see new things. Saga’s car accident simply delayed the project, Henrik spent lots of time looking at destinations and comparing offers.  
He wanted a sunny place, not too crowded, with good food and sandy beaches, far from the dark Scandinavian nights. He planned two weeks as a gift to his loved ones and estimated a budget  
Saga guessed he was up to something, but she let him continue his researches without questioning; she liked his little surprises, she trusted his ability.  
At the beginning of May Henrik came up with a definitive choice: south of France, warm, bright, most hotels or residences with swimming pools, excellent food and colourful markets to shop into.  
He prepared a ratatouille and a pot of mussels for dinner, following Astrid’s new vegetarian style, and was pleased when Saga asked a second round.  
“Was it good? Did you like it? ”  
The women both nodded, having learnt he wanted confirmation of his cooking skills; a male insecurity trait they laughed about often.  
“So can we go to France and eat it authentic French style?”  
“Dad, we can imagine how it is.”  
“No, Astrid, we do it for real, I’m planning we go there for two weeks at the end of may. I’ve find a residence with swimming pool in Camargue, it’s close to Provence and lots of beautiful other places, we can go horse riding, see the flamingos, take a boat. Saga’s arm is ok now so she can help me drive, we’ll take our time and enjoy the travel. What do you think ?”  
Saga closed her eyes, like she was imagining the setting, a little smile appeared on her face.  
A voyage with companions, something really new.  
Astrid started making questions, what she could draw, were there many animals, could she ride a horse for real, swim in the sea and tan on the beach.

 

The two days drive across Europe was longer than Henrik imagined but they crossed so many countries and landscapes to compensate the hours in the car.  
Saga prepared a timetable and Henrik made a point in respecting it; she booked a hotel for the half way stop in Alsace, the first taste of France for Astrid.  
They arrived in Camargue late in the evening, just the time to place the bags inside and to go out looking for something to eat; the village of Saintes Marie de la Mer was close and they stopped at a van selling hot dogs and chips, too tired to go to a restaurant.  
Henrik woke up first the following morning, he went on the terrace overlooking the pond and saw the endless plain, indistinct boundaries between water and land. A few white buildings were scattered around, black forms moved, difficult to understand if horses or bulls.  
The weather was warm and pleasant, not too hot, a thin line of fog lingered in the distance looking west.  
The window on his right opened and Astrid joined him, clad in the new bathrobe they bought for the swimming pool.  
She looked at the landscape and asked where the mountains were. She had followed the map during the village, marking the road to their destination.  
“The dying Alps are west. We’ll visit the hills of Provence and Rhone valley, too. I want to buy a guide as soon as we go to the village. For now, do you want breakfast?”  
She nodded vigorously.  
“I call Saga so we can go out for breakfast and buy groceries. Do you want to use the bathroom first?”  
“There are two bathrooms dad, I see yesterday evening, one had the w c only.”  
“I read it is typical French, I have a sink in my room, too.” 

 

They alternated a day at the swimming pool or at the beach and one to explore the south of France. After a week, the holiday was getting better and better.  
It was a pleasure to watch the sunset from their terrace, not the midnight sun they were used to but a good partition between day and night.  
An English family, the Parker, was in the same residence, parents, a boy and a girl a little younger than Astrid and a daughter, from a previous marriage, aged over twenty with her boyfriend.  
The two families started spending time together around the swimming pool; Saga improved her English a lot.  
The ornithological reserve offered on Friday a guided evening observation of the birds and the three teenagers were eager to take part. So Henrik drove them to the reserve entrance and bought the tickets, Tom Parker would get all the children back later.  
Saga put two glasses of fresh juices and some snacks on the terrace table.  
“You like kids a lot, don’t you?”  
She observed how he interacted with the children in the afternoon, playing in the swimming pool.  
“Yes, I always had.”  
“So it was painful to know Anna was dead?”  
“When you told me…”  
“Was I the one?”  
“Yes, you found Astrid alive and that Anna was dead, you came to me and I felt split in two, half smiling and half crying. Every time I look at Astrid I remember Anna.”  
“And you never wanted another child?”  
“No, not until I’d know their fate.” A white lie, useful to hide his secret.  
“So we can have one now?”  
“We.. me and you?”  
“Yes, who else? I’m still fertile, I’ve got a regular period.”  
“But … your memory …”  
Henrik started babbling, unable to think straight.  
“Do I have already a child? I suppose not, you’d tell me.”  
“Yes, I mean no, you don’t have children.”  
“So why not? You’re a widow, there is nothing that stops us. I cannot work in police as long I’m without memory. I can study.”  
“Your memory can return.”  
“Yes, but I have no family, it could be good to form one.”  
“Are you afraid of being alone?”  
“No. It's not the point. I won’t force you. I see you have already your own daughter. That's enough for you.”  
“No, Saga, it’s not because of Astrid.”  
“You want her to be the only one, to give her all the attentions she deserves.” Saga was merciless pushing him into a direction over which Henrik had little control.  
“I swear it is not the reason!”  
“So why? You’re getting nervous, I see in your face.”  
Henrik snapped out.  
“Because it has already happened. Last winter, when you left prison, you were pregnant by me. The contraception failed. We had a visiting room with a bed for conjugal visits.”  
Her jaw dropped, Henrik never saw such a surprise on Saga’s face.  
“I lost it? Miscarriage? Was it deformed after the genetic tests? Or the doctor said I had difficulties to carry it to term?”  
Under her fire of questions, no way to escape: the abortion was the only thing that Henrik had decided carefully to hide, until Saga got control again of her memories.  
She was forcing him for an answer and it was difficult to be honest.  
“You were scared to be a mother, you wanted to live with me as a couple. Astrid was still away.”  
She insisted, her typical way.  
“But I go well with Astrid. The foetus had an handicap?”  
He could tell her so, she wanted that answer, the easy way, yes, we’re over forty, we did the tests and the doctor said better do it sooner...  
Saga looked at his face. A tear. She stopped. Something was strange, Henrik’s eyes went full watery.  
“Forgive me, it still hurts.”  
“What? Tell me!”  
“You decided to have it removed. Soon, week seven. Without tests. I got angry at you and told you things I now regret with all my heart.”  
“I had an abortion?”  
Henrik nodded.  
“And you didn’t stop me?”  
Stop Saga? Henrik felt like he was lifted on a plane up above to watch the world from a different perspective, such was the surprise Saga’s words created in him.  
“You told me after you did it. I’m sorry, I was harsh and selfish. I wanted it so much, you closed my family case and I clang to that baby.”  
Saga gaze lowered to the floor, without the strength to face Henrik and the anguish she heard in his voice.  
He took a deep breath to continue.  
“Then you saved Astrid for me, you doubled your efforts to give me a child back, and I’ll be forever grateful for this.”  
“I didn’t imagine…”  
She stood up and left the terrace, closing the bedroom door behind her.  
Henrik felt he had done the right thing, telling the truth, it seemed she had an hard time to accept it.  
Saga returned when it was dark and sat again, looking at the evening sky.  
“It is a shock. I imagined there would be hard things to face, this was completely unexpected.”  
“Doctors told me not to force your memories back, I couldn't tell you about the baby.”  
“I don’t remember the moment I told you I aborted, nor the hospital, nor how I felt, but knowing what I have done, it doesn’t feel right”  
“I was wrong, Saga, I pressured you to keep the baby. You had deep feelings for me and I refused to see how scared you were.”  
“Astrid knows?”  
“No, I never told her. Lillian knows and your psychologist, I suppose. Nobody else.”  
“You wanted it?”  
“A selfish desire.”  
“Did you really want it?”  
How well she read him, with or without memory, always. How much he wanted that baby, that little miracle, unplanned, unexpected, impossible.  
“Yes, so much I went down the hill after. I told you to disappear from my life, I fall in my vices again while you stood strong and fond my girls. We were so confused, so tensed we had difficulties to see the important things. The case only kept us in contact.”  
“I’ve lost my chance.”  
“No, it isn't true. I’ve thought about it a lot, we weren’t ready, maybe it was not our destiny then.”  
“So now you’re the one afraid that I change my mind half way again? We don’t know if it can happen another time and we dwell on fears of the might be.”  
She was as always direct and honest, Henrik felt stupid in doubting Saga's brain.  
He was more than afraid, he was terrified to risk his heart again. This time Astrid would sure know and she had already lost a sister: another abortion was out of question.  
He stood up and went inside, he wasn’t ready to continue the discussion, Saga sensed his distress and let him alone; he drank a glass of orange juice and decided for a walk.  
“I’m going out for a while, I’ll go toward the reserve and write Astrid so we can meet.”  
He walked along the pound, the path was large and visible in the dying light, signs of red and white were on short palette of wood on the ground. How well organized France was for tourists especially with children, it has been a real surprise also Saga enjoyed a lot. She stated the average of children in French families like it was the last football result between Denmark and Sweden; she was looking at children too much  
Half land, half water, the flat Camargue surrounded him and he took pleasure in the rhythm of his steps following the waves. He remained near the pond, instead of going to the shore and walk on the sand. He liked the marsh area most, to avoid the lights of the village and the sound of people.  
It wasn’t high touristic season but being a Friday night lots of people enjoyed a week end at the sea.  
The reserve was a ten minute walk, he texted Astrid but she replied Tom Parker planned to offer ice creams, so if Henrik agreed, they’d meet later in front of the town hall.  
He had more time to be alone and reflect.  
It had been hard to help Saga, Astrid and help himself, too.  
Strange but the absence of memories - for different reasons - of a life with him had been helpful to bond Saga and Astrid together. He never imagine it could happen so fast.  
So it was logical now Saga wanted her own baby, someone who could be hers forever.  
Strangely, in a reversal of the previous time, the choice was his and his only.  
Would Astrid be happy or jealous? Would she see a sibling as a menace or a blessing?  
Would Saga put a child ahead of their relationship? She was still on the pill, she assured him, but the doubts were heavy.  
If all went right, she could stay with him as a family, to hell this time all the suggestions to give up all rights and duties to him.  
If all went wrong, she’d had her past back in full force, Henrik pondered her ability to cope with it. She was strong and brave, she was developing new memories and he was a part of them.  
She had asked why he still valued their relationship after what she did.  
Because I love you, he answered. The complete truth. Because his need was stronger: protect, help, support her and himself at the same time. 

 

The following morning Saga had organized a trip to Arles on the Van Gogh route. The Parker sisters asked to join them, the oldest was a fan of the Dutch artist and it was an occasion to introduce her sister to the painter. She had visited the museum in Amsterdam two years before and Saga thought they could do the same on their way back.  
Tom and Mary Parker gave permission; Henrik was happy, every occasion Astrid interacted with people close to her age was positive.  
Around 30 chilometers from their residence, Arles was a small town, easy to visit; after a light snack they headed to Saint Remy and les antiques.  
The chatting of the girls on the back seat was continuous, they started mixing languages, adding a little bit of French to the common English, with some words of Danish and Swedish.  
The adults listened, Henrik did the driving, Saga the navigator; at destination, Saga and the sisters opted for the roman museum, Astrid asked Henrik to walk to the sanatorium where Van Gogh lived and painted.  
“Carol and Liz get along well together.”  
“They’re more than 10 years apart.”  
“That’s a big difference, but Carol is lucky, I’m alone.”  
Astrid missed Anna, Henrik was sure, sad for being an only child.  
He had wanted to ask if there was ever a chance for Saga’s proposal, needing the right words not to make painful memories return.  
“If you had a sibling now, you’d be almost 16 year apart, a bigger gap. And it wouldn’t be Anna.”  
“But it will be someone new, really new. For all of us, also for Saga. She has no children.”  
Henrik was stupefied how Astrid has understood the problem; his daughter read him well, better he imagined.  
“How much I’d like to forget, Frank had you for eight years. And if I cannot give you all you need…you deserve … my time and my attentions…”  
He hugged Astrid, afraid she could leave him on the spot, in the middle of the olive trees and red poppies Van Gogh painted so well.  
“Dad, you can love me and another child. What if Anna was here? We’d share you, like we did before. And I share already you with Saga.”  
Henrik let his tears go, while Astrid walked along the path a few steps ahead of him, then she turned.  
“Why me and Anna were so close of age?”  
A bit of embarrassment for Henrik in explaining how Alice wanted two children in a row, like Alice and her sister were, so they could grow together.  
“Maybe if me and Anna were not born, mom would be still here.”  
“Don’t say it! You were her pride and joy. The faults were mostly mine, I choose my work over you. I wanted a career, a better life for all of us. I was a fool. Now I’ve learned my lesson.”  
“But are you going to return to work?”  
“I have a six months leave, I could return when you start school, but now with Saga it won’t be so easy. I do hope Saga confirm her idea to study for a while.”

 

After dinner, Astrid started making a video of the holiday hits, showing Saga how to use the application. Henrik observed them for a long time and when Astrid retired he asked Saga to follow him outside; she complied, deep lines on her forehead under the cold light on the neon lamp. She seemed nervous, Henrik smiled and she let out her breath.  
“I reflected. There's nothing that'd make me happier than having a child with you, but I want you full aware of your past. There is someone you need to remember that could impact on your choices a lot.”  
She nodded, adding at home she'd ask her psychologist to proceed with the cognitive therapy.  
Henrik took two blankets from the closet and offered Saga one, before turning off the light.  
“I want you to know all my past before deciding.”  
In the silence of the night he started the tale of his life since he entered police academy.  
Alice, their courtship, marriage, the girls, his estrangement from family, the disappearance, his guilt, vices and abuses. The years spent with his ghosts, alone in a house too big for a single man. He explained Saga about the club and the pills, how easy it had been to leave the club and how hard the drugs, how much her presence saved him.  
“I'm an human being with my faults and I made mistakes like everyone else. When I met you, I found my soul mate, my partner in every way. I don't want to hide anything from you.”


	9. Chapter 9

CH 9 

Saga asked her doctor to speed up the therapy: she had conquered some memories but was aware of what Henrik told her about the last missing pieces. She decided it was a risk, but trusting Henrik loved her with or without memories, she felt ready to uncover all that remained and to have an answer to another important question, if her work had been and could be healthy for her.  
Not that she was so confident in finding out who she had been, some moments she thought it could be better to remain unaware. She was police - Henrik told her for twenty year or so - what else she could become? What if with her memories back she wanted another life? Would she be able to cope with such a big new chance? Her only certainty were Henrik and Astrid, who had suggested hypnosis; Saga explained her it was a legend it could help in such a situation.  
She had to face her demons awake. After remembering Jennifer, she suspected the direction to take, especially after the revelation about her aborted baby and Henrik's fears for another one.  
Logic dictated the themes would be family and identity.  
The therapist explained she had reserved all the afternoon for Saga and suggested to start with a phase of relaxation.  
“Your girl’s idea of hypnosis has been discarded by medical practice, but the general concept of being calm and quiet works well with our purpose.”  
She quoted yoga – you could try it, or some other form of meditation - and made Saga lie on the couch with a blanket to keep her warm. She asked Saga to concentrate on each part of her body and to register the different sensations she felt; the hardest part was to make Saga relax her arms and shoulders.  
“You and your sister are at home. Imagine a scene”  
“We are in our bedroom. Jennifer wants to play. ”  
“Try to describe what happens.”  
“Jennifer is tired, she can play for a little while only, I want to make her feel better and she keep telling me she is unwell.”  
“She 's still a child, while you're older.”  
“Nine years. I like to be with her, she is my only friend. At school nobody want to socialize with me. So I stop trying.”  
“So Jennifer is not well.”  
“Every time my father is away for work she gets ill, I ask him to stay home more but he thinks I'm telling lies.”  
“If he leaves, who 's with you?” Saga's body tensed and the therapist made her relax again.  
“We are alone.”  
“Saga, if she is unwell and you don’t hurt her, who's there?”  
“Nobody.” Another attempt at opposition.  
“You need to cross that bridge, I assure you nobody will harm you.”  
Saga resisted, her eyes closed; the therapist’s voice become softer.  
“Let it go, it will be pass soon, trust me. Open your eyes. Who?”  
“My mother.”  
The dam broke and the flood washed over Saga in full force.  
Years of abuse, the trial against her parents, her mother with hate in her eyes, the verbal fight at the morgue over the dead body of Jennifer, twenty years of separation and her mother back in her life, framing her for a late and desperate revenge.  
And the sudden realization she was right, she has always been right, through the diaries she discovered her mother made Jennifer ill.  
“I wanted to forget so many things.”  
“You spent twenty years suffocating your emotions and wanting to control things, in every small detail, refusing a close contact with your inner self or letting someone share your life. The prison was difficult for you, a strain you couldn't bear, inserted on your actual personality. That, added to the pregnancy, made you go off rails.”  
The session ended and - although after a mild tranquilizer given by the doctor - Saga's heart was beating so fast she called Henrik to collect her; in his car she breathed and leaned into the seat.  
“You were right. I faced my mother, she is the main reason of my amnesia.”  
“You have to go through painful memories, how do you feel now?”  
“Like someone punched me straight in my ribs, but it's better to know. Now we can speak about everything.”  
They talked until well into the night, Henrik had met Marie Luise Noren only twice, so he could not describe her a lot, but he focused his tale on the trial Saga was submitted to and the way she had framed her daughter.  
“There is something else. When you were under arrest, you asked me to check your old mail box and later I opened a P.O. Box for you in Malmo. There was a heavy envelope from a legal firm. In prison you refused to open it, telling me to keep it. Do you want to read it now?”  
Saga took the letter like it was poison. Henrik busied himself in the kitchen, preparing a nightcap with some biscuits, to respect her privacy. No sounds from the bedroom. He called tea was ready and Saga arrived, eyed the biscuits and ate three in a row.  
Good sign, Henrik thought.  
“It’s a copy of my father’s will. I own a house and two rented apartments. My father bought them when he stopped working, the rents are on a bank account. The house is where they lived with Jennifer and maybe also later on. I was already independent.”  
She showed Henrik the documents; the rents - added to her own personal wealth - meant she could live for a few years without having to work. Or she could by a car more expensive than she planned.  
On a map, the house was 25 km outside Malmo, in a small village  
Henrik suggested to contact the lawyers and ask an update of the situation. 

 

The meeting with the law firm was short, Saga returned to Henrik's car with the house keys.  
“The bank account will be changed to my name tomorrow. We can go see the house if you want.”  
Astrid nodded from the back seats and Henrik simply asked the address.  
The countryside was in full summer bloom and the road followed the sea for a short tract.  
Astrid was looking at the beaches, pointing out the difference with the Camargue they visited.  
“There are various kind of beaches”, Saga started explaining,” in the Mediterranean are mainly sandy, with some made of little stones, with low tide effect. The oceanic beaches have the full effect of the tides and their width vary a lot during the day.”  
Henrik made a mental note of an August holiday somewhere along an oceanic coast.  
The village was small for their town standard, the house was at the end of a private road, with a garden and orchard. The grass was high, uncut, the flowerbeds had to be cleared, some trees with branches loaded with of fruits needed supports; the sea was close, in the distance a golf course.  
“The property value increases with the golf.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I'm not a real estate agent, but I bet the place could be sold at a high price, it depends on the inside. Or if you want to sell it. It’s more modern than I imagined.”  
Saga turned the key in the lock.  
It was dark and dusty, until Henrik opened a window and the afternoon light entered in full force. Saga scanned the place, there was a long corridor and doors on both sides; she closed her eyes and concentrated, she visited Jennifer there twice only  
First door right, her father's office, second door a bathroom and laundry, third door the stairs. On the other side, sitting room and kitchen.  
She opened the doors in sequence and find out the office had been converted into a bedroom. The furniture were different than the one she remembered, but they were scarce, like somebody had sold various items. The sitting room had only a table and two chairs, the cupboards in the kitchen were empty. Astrid suggested they could have lived elsewhere during the years Saga was estranged from the place; the layer of dust in the kitchen was impressive.  
Upstairs, Saga went into Jennifer room.  
Henrik and Astrid stood at the top of the stairs, until Saga went out with puffy eyes and some photos in her hand.

 

The full exploration of the house revealed two other empty rooms on the second floor, from one the sea was visible.  
“It’s not like Freddie Holst’s house but it’s a good view.”  
“Was it the modern squared building?”  
“All white, full sea view.”  
“He was very rich, wasn't he? With a wife and a kid we saved?”  
Henrik smiled, happy she was remembering the cases.  
Astrid liked the house a lot and wanted to explore outside; plants were full with fruits and before leaving they filled a chest with cherries and raspberries. A shame to waste healthy natural products, Henrik declared, planning to return soon better equipped to make preserves. Prunes were still too green and apples would be ready in August.  
Saga found a ladder in the storage room and Henrik climbed up the trees.  
“I’ve never been immersed in nature since at my grandparents twenty years ago.”  
“Be careful, cherry trees are weak woods.”  
Saga stood by the stairs, keeping it still against the trunk.  
Henrik wanted to go further up to reach a group of ripe red fruits, but he lost balance for a second and his left food slipped  
“Dad!” Astrid closed her eyes, fearing a fall.  
“I'm ok! Saga, give me that perch close to the water barrel. Yes, the one Y shaped at the end.”  
He used it to grab the branch and pull it down, until he tore out the cherries and let them fall on the ground where Astrid was collecting then. 

 

Back home Saga spent the evening examining the photos of the house, absently picking up cherries from the bowl.  
“It would be good to live there, more space, a garden, three bedrooms upstairs and the big roof that can put in use.”  
“But we don’t need so much space.” Henrik was doubtful, more about Saga's acceptance of the house than about living there.  
“We could. And Astrid will soon have friends visiting.”  
“Do you imagine a stranger in your house, touching your things, not upsetting you?”  
“If I have a space reserved for me, why not? A room I can keep locked. You can rent this house, so whatever happens you’ll still own it.”  
“But you mother lived there.”  
“I didn’t and I have few memories of that place. We can decide later, or stay there for a while in the summer and see how it feels. I’m not in a position to return at work and if I’d decide to, it will be in a different way than before.” 

 

Tobias called Saga to propose a selection of car he found in dealers of the Malmo area for the incoming Saturday morning.  
Astrid was excited and Henrik curious, the new budget made Tobias change his target.  
Lined up there were a Porsche Carrera, an Audi TT, a Bmw X5 , a Jaguar S-type and a Volvo X60. Tobias explained models and prices, the Volvo was a real bargain because the owner - a faithful customer of Tobias – bought it and less than a year later was transferred to Amsterdam with a better work position – so he asked Tobias to find a buyer.  
It had the small of a new car, no signs on the carrozzeria, a baby seat behind the driver.  
“I know you want a sportive, but you’re three, I know what family means in terms of car space.”  
Saga asked to try the Carrera with Tobias, who made a bet with Henrik: that would be the choice – after a Porsche she could not accept less – but when Saga returned she handed Tobias the key.  
“We need a car with more than two seats. I want to try the Volvo. The boot is huge and the safe systems are excellent for a family.”  
She turned to Henrik and Astrid.  
“What do you think?”  
“It‘s your car, your choice.” Astrid agreed with her father.  
“Now we don't need a Porsche. When Astrid will have her licence, we could buy her a little sportive car.”  
Back from the try, Tobias took the baby seat from the boot and headed for the inside.  
Saga followed and told him she was going to buy the Volvo with all the accessories, including that.  
Henrik took Saga apart.  
“It’s similar to mine, you don’t have to sacrifice your desires for me and Astrid.  
“I'm not sacrificing anything, my Porsche was beautiful and served me well for a long time. This is the kind of car that better suits our actual needs.” 

 

Saga's plans to renovate the house become projects when she hired an architect.  
She had precise ideas and the architect modified the 3d file following her requests; Henrik let Saga take her time – she was the owner, after all – until an evening she showed him the project.  
The presentation started with a rendering of the exterior, the garden, the driveway, garages and the main door.  
On the front, larger windows, to let the light flow free, no separation on the ground floor between living and kitchen, Henrik could cook and interact with family at the same time. A guest room in front of the kitchen and the stairs leading up to the first floor, with a wardrobe, three bedrooms and two bathrooms; the attic would become Saga’s private space and library.  
“Do we need two guest rooms?”  
“There’s only one on the ground floor.”  
“So it is a study for Astrid? A drawing room?”  
“A bedroom for our child?”  
Henrik sharp intake of breath. He had carefully avoid the topic after Saga remembered her mother; Saga didn't speak about her idea again, he thought she had removed it and decided to let the issue drop.  
His mouth went dry, he wanted, hoped, feared at the same time; she was perfectly calm, looking at him with full round eyes.  
“If you still want it and Astrid is not disappointed, we can try.”  
“I've talked with Astrid, she's positive.”  
“Good, so we'll use the empty space.”

 

EPILOGUE

A few years later 

“At what time?”  
“Around ten. We can have a late breakfast like every Saturday.”  
“Does she suspect anything?”  
“I don’t think so. I’ve been generic about the whole business.”  
“Good.”  
“Hans was curious when I signed the papers at the dealer.”  
“A three and a half year old can’t relate the place with the surprise.”  
“A normal one no, ours can. Remember you started his cars collection, he already knows every model and his dream is to drive a Porsche one day.”  
Saga stared at the ceiling then back at Henrik.  
“You’re right. I’ll go get him.”  
Saga soon retuned, in her arms a sleepy little boy in a night robe with teddy bears.  
The child’s face changed when he saw his father and he crawled on the bed to get close to him.  
Hans’ brain appeared to be sharp like hers, but Saga thanked every God up above that her son was open and tactile like Henrik.  
“Today is a big day for Astrid.”  
“I know, dad. Mini.”  
“Yes, Hans, her new Mini will arrive in an hour and we want a big surprise for her, don’t we?”  
His son nodded.  
“So I’m going to prepare breakfast while Mom bathe you and we won’t talk about it with Astrid, ok?”  
“Ok, dad.”  
Henrik heard with delight the sound of splashing water coming from the bathroom downstairs while dressing the table; Hans loved water a lot and the morning bath was one of his favourite moment. During weekends they could linger more in domestic peace, when daily routine - his work at the academy, Saga’s free lance role as a criminal profiler for both Danish and Swedish police, Astrid's first university year – was discarded.  
Astrid entered the kitchen with a book, her first exam was in two weeks, followed by Saga and Hans.  
Astrid noticed the fresh baked croissants, their new very special weekend breakfast treat, American pancakes long forgotten; she questioned her father.  
“It is for you, a sequel to your birthday.”  
“It was two weeks ago.”  
“Can I spoil my baby girl, can’t I?”  
She went closer and kissed her father on the cheek; she knew well how much he wanted to be forgiven for the lost years.  
“Your baby girl likes it a lot.”  
“So sit down and eat.”  
He poured milk over Hans’ cereals and passed Saga her scrambled eggs, while he stood, drinking a cup of coffee and casting frequent glances at the front window.  
Astrid saw him put his half eaten croissant on the dish and run to the front door; she asked what was happening and Saga told her a delivery was due in the morning.  
Henrik called everybody and Saga prompted Astrid to do as requested; they reached the front door and a shining green new Mini Cooper was outside on the driveway, with red ribbons on the rear view mirrors.  
“Happy birthday Astrid, we promised you a car with your driving licence.”  
Astrid throw herself in her father's arms first, then went to Saga, hugging also Hans.  
“Thanks!!! I didn't imagine one really really new.”  
“We'd never go for a second hand car.” Henrik looked at Saga, for their girl only the best.  
“New, safe, solid and fast, perfect for a young independent woman.”  
“Can we try it?”  
Henrik passed her the key.  
“Sure we can, there's the baby seat for Hans in the boot, we'll try it together.”

THANKS FOR FOLLOWING


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